


Snap

by Eat0crow



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Miraculous Ladybug, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Rewrite, Endgame is Ignored, Loki gets some kids, Magic, Multi, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Worldbuilding, and to live, tbh I butchered cannon into tiny pieces and only kept the piece i liked
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 23:54:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18839383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eat0crow/pseuds/Eat0crow
Summary: The miraculous exist separate from the physical plane, they hide in the abstract pulling their holders through the veil. Keeping them with one foot in both worlds.Marinette can feel it, she can feel it down to her very core. Something is happening, and whatever it is...it's bad.VeryVeryBad.





	Snap

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so salty about Endgame that I decided for simplicity's sake to ignore it and instead write my own way to undo the snap. So with that said know that I'm throwing Endgame out the window and there will be no spoilers within this fic.

Marinette has started to notice more and more things since she had first received her miraculous.

She notices all the little things now. She notices that in the mornings, the air is crisp and new and the ground is sleepy and the plants are lazy as they reach their stems and turn their leaves up toward the sky. She notices how all these little things exist just outside of reach, on a separate plane from the physical, scratching the surface but never really making their way through into perception. 

No one else ever feels the things that Marinette feels now. She’s talked to Chat. He doesn’t feel the earth like she does. He doesn’t feel creation humming along underneath the soil and running through the air. _Existing_. It all melds together into an overabundance of input that drives Marinette crazy on a bad day and keeps her charged with energy on a good one.

He hears what she feels, apparently. She’s not sure of the specifics. Chat doesn’t like to talk about the awful whispers that torment him both in and outside of the mask. 

She’s talked to Tikki about it before.

They’re becoming something a little more than human day by day. Stepping further and further into the veil that separates the abstract from the physical. They’re leaving behind what they were and becoming something new, for better or worse there’s no going back now.

All Ladybugs and Black Cats take this journey.

Usually, it doesn’t bother Marinette too much. She thinks if she was older, reality would have set in heavier than it has now. The weight of her choices would be suffocating instead of stifling. They would have been world ending instead of mildly inconvenient. But for now, at thirteen, everything is black and white. There are no grays, just a job that needs to be done. And Marinette has the power to do that job. And with the power comes the side effects. It’s simple.

She doesn’t think much over it, just accepts it as her inevitable.

Marinette wonders if this is why children are sent to fight monsters.

The tears in Tikki’s eyes when she asks does little to disprove the theory.

It doesn’t matter.

Not really.

Not today. Today what matters is that the world is _screaming_. It’s pulled taut and stretched out. Breathless and restless and exhausted all at the exact same time. And it _hurts_. It hurts down to her very core. Her nerves are frayed, her head is pounding, there are bugs crawling under her skin, and it’s all Marinette can do not to bury her head against her knees, claw at her skin until she’s dug out each and every little insect, and she’s left looking just as raw as the ground feels.

Something is wrong. Something is very _very_ irrevocably wrong. And sitting through morning classes is the absolute last thing Marinette wants to do. 

Outside the day is beautiful. Or at least it would have been beautiful if Marinette still existed exclusively within the physical now and not with half her foot in the door of creation. Nothing is out of place. The sun is shining, birds are singing, and the shoe is teetering over a very _very_ precarious perch.

“Hey, hey Marinette stop it.” Distantly, it’s always distantly when she gets like this, Marinette feels Alya pull her fingers apart. Her grip is loose and gentle, _too much_. It makes her fried nerves cry out and puts her even further on edge than she had been when she walked into the room. 

“Sorry,” Marinette mumbles out. She’s been picking her nails, her thumb is bleeding and her frazzled mind can barely register the cool blood sliding down the side of her hand. The pain is lost somewhere in the tight knot that’s woven itself up and around everything as the wind holds its breath and waits and waits and _waits_...But for what?

Marinette is terrified to find out.

Alya sighs and wraps a tissue around Marinette’s bleeding finger, “Don’t apologize just...just knock it off, okay girl.”

It’s mesmerizing watching the red dot grow and grow and grow as it spreads out and slowly takes over the white of the cloth. She wonders if she was the peacock, who’s eyes Tikki has told her can peer into the very fabric of reality itself, if this is what she would be seeing. Something other taking root and slowly devouring the now.

“You haven’t heard a word I’ve said in the last five minutes, have you?”

No. No Marinette very much hasn’t. Not now that most of the class has arrived. Not now that their presence is drowning out the earth and adding tension to the air and screaming so _so_ loudly. Suffocating her in their sheer amount of presence.

“Is this about Adrien?” Alya asks.

She’s still holding Marinette’s hand even though her finger has stopped bleeding and the tissue has been tossed somewhere out of the way. Alya’s hand is too warm. It’s distracting instead of grounding and the bugs crawling up and down Marinette’s arm all rush to huddle up to every point of contact.

“What?” her voice is thicker than she would like. 

“Adrien, girl!” It's a name that Marinette knows, not distantly but presently. But it’s a name that’s relevancy is drowned out. Focus, Marinette can’t focus, she can’t bring herself to think on why Alya is asking about him, and her confusion must show on her face because Alya continues looking a bit stunned. “The guy you’re madly in love with. The guy who walked into the room three minutes ago looking like a zombie kept from the grave by the sheer power of caffeine and spite.”

Marinette makes herself look down to where Alya is pointing, and sure enough, Adrien looks like he got into a fight with an angry poltergeist and lost. His hair falls lifelessly from his head and his face is pushed so far into his arms Marinette almost misses the sickly pallor his skin has taken up.

She wonders if Chat is looking anything like Adrien is. 

Part of her hopes that he hasn’t been hearing the world the way she’s been feeling it today. She’s not sure she is prepared for the haunted look that’s sure to be in his eyes.

“Oh, oh no...it’s not Adrien.” It’s not. Before Alya had pointed him out Marinette hadn’t thought to spare him a single glance. Today, today she has bigger issues and another blond to worry about.

“What’s up with you today. You’re really out of it,” Alya asks.

She finally stops rubbing circles into Marinette’s hand and lets it fall onto the desk instead. The bugs go back to their previous task of running from the tips of her fingers to the base of where her spine connects to her arm. 

Out of it is putting it lightly. Marinette feels like a passenger in her own body today, a hostage to the sensations of the world, and a reluctant spectator in something that can only be bad news.

“Sorry.”

“I’m not mad...it’s just...Hon, you look exhausted, are you sure you're okay to be here today?” Alya asks and part of Marinette wants to break down and cry out no, that no she’s not okay to be here today. She’s not okay to be anywhere today because something...something is very wrong and she needs to fix it so bad it hurts.

She can’t say that though. Not without giving up who she is. 

It doesn’t matter. Not really at least. Even if Alya knew Marinette was Ladybug there would be no way for her to understand. Some things...some things are beyond words. And this, this is something that exists so exclusively for the Miraculous. So she just shakes her head and does her best to turn her focus on Alya. “I’m fine. I just need to wake up a bit. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

There’s not much time for talking after that, the bells ring and class starts and whatever Alya would have said is cut off by the teacher calling roll, and Marinette dropping her head down onto her desk to close her eyes.

She’s not sleeping. She’s wide awake. More awake than she was when she woke up because something has changed, something has suddenly changed and things have gotten much _much_ worse all within a moment’s time.

It feels like a hiccup. Like the balance has shifted just a bit more, the shoe getting closer toward its tipping point. 

Her hands are seizing without her control now. The nerves so wired they curl and uncurl all without her consent. She peeks her eyes open just enough to see Alya shift to hide her from view.

She catches her sharing a look with Nino as he does the same for Adrien who’s clutching his head. 

Tears are building up in her eyes and it takes every ounce of Marinette’s strength to bite her tongue as the thin cotton of her shirt slowly starts to hurt more and more.  


* * *

Marinette leaps to her feet the second the bell rings and is out the door before anyone even has the chance to move. Distantly, oh so distantly, she hears someone shout her name and footsteps follow.

Any other day she would stop, slow down, ignore the sensations and wait. Today she pelts to the side of the school and rips her bag open. Secrecy be damned! 

When she looks inside Tikki is curled up into a ball shaking and shivering and feeling every inch more than Marinette’s mind can even start to imagine. It’s terrifying to see. Proof that things can get worse, much _much worse_. 

“Oh, oh Tikki are you okay?”

“I-I’m fine,” Tikki says as she emerges, bringing herself to rest inside Marinette’s cupped hand, “You need to find Chat.”

Marinette winces and feels dread slowly start to pool in her stomach, “Tikki there’s no way you can transform like this.”

“I’m okay Marinette, really.”

“No, you're not.” There’s a bit of desperation creeping into her voice, but she can’t help it. Things are very _very_ wrong and she needs Tikki to see that she sees that.

“Marinette-”

“Tikki.” Marinette cuts her off. “I’m going to start pulling my hair out soon if this keeps up, and it is getting worse. It’s getting worse and you feel these things even more than I do, so really I don’t understand how anything, anything at all can be fine right now!”

“You need to breathe,” Tikki says not unkindly, patting one of Marinette’s fingers. “You need to breathe and you need to find Chat Noir. He can help.”

“Tikki-”

“Marinette you know he can help. And you know he’s feeling just as bad as you are,” Tikki chides, “you need to get to Chat.”

“Okay, okay.” Marinette takes a deep breath. “I can...I’ll get to Chat”

“I’m proud of you Marinette.” Tikki’s smile is near blinding even with the pain pinching behind her eyes.

Marinette brings Tikki up to her face and gives her an affectionate nuzzle. “Are you ready then?”

Tikki’s nod is slow and deliberate.

Marinette’s is shaky and uncertain as she whispers, “Spotts on.” 

Transforming has always been something Marinette’s loved. It’s amazing, a sensation like nothing else in this world. It fills her with energy and makes her feel new. Usually, that is, today it makes everything feel ancient and breakable, fragile. It takes all of Marinette’s senses and dials them up to eleven. Ripping her voice away and bringing her down to her knees. 

She wants to stay there, curled up in a ball on the cement behind her school but she can’t, she has to get to Chat. She promised Tikki she would. And she knows he’s suffering too. It’s a different kind of suffering but suffering all the same.

She needs to pull herself up, pull herself together, and most importantly she needs to get to Chat before whatever is coming comes. 

She takes a shaky step and stumbles back.

There’s a sudden very stark absence. It rips a part of her soul out and takes something fundamental and-

Seconds feel like hours. A handful of minutes go by and don’t all at once... Something else... Something else has changed now. There’s been another shift. There’s been a pause, a rewind. Something has tripped up over itself. It has ceased to be and come back. 

The air is tighter, the elastic pulled white.

The ground is bloody, no longer raw, it’s fresh and open and bleeding.

And...

And she needs Chat.

She pulls out her yo-yo and waits.

“My Lady.” She wasn’t expecting his voice to hit her so hard.

It’s the magic, she knows. The magic that pulls them together and ties their fates into a knot of emotions and codependency that’s more than vaguely alarming to anyone outside looking in. But his voice is enough to pull her consciousness out of the earth and back into her body.

She takes a minute just to look over his face. His hair is even messier than normal. His skin is bone white and his eyes. Oh god, his eyes. There are ghosts swimming along the surface, not even bothering to hide their presence.

“Are you okay.” His voice is desperate, scared and full of panic. “My Lady, are you okay.”

She must have taken too long to respond. She’s worried him, and as much as she hates to make him panic…

“No. No Chat.” She can’t bring herself to lie to one of the few people in her life she can be completely honest with. “It _hurts_.”

 

“I know bugaboo,” he sighs, “ _I know_.”

“I need you,” Marinette chokes out and she can’t help the tears that slide down her face. “It’s too much.”

“Five minutes, I can meet you by the Eiffel tower in five minutes.”

“Okay.” Her hand shakes as she drags herself up onto her feet. “Okay... I’ll be there.”

“Ladybug.” Chat’s voice is scared. More scared than she has ever heard him sound before. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Marinette isn’t sure if he’s saying that for her sake or for his own. It’s most likely a mixture of both. And Marinette desperately wishes she could bring herself to believe him.

But they both know the truth.

He hangs up.  


* * *

The Eiffel tower has never felt further away. It takes five minutes. Five minutes of leaping and swinging, all things Marinette has done a hundred times over. She’s never felt this exhausted in her life.

She’s fought akuma after akuma.

She’s stayed awake night after night.

She’s been injured in more ways than anyone her age has a right to be.

And yet. Yet never has she felt as exhausted as she is now.

It’s as if something is slowly but surely drawing out all the strength from the universe. 

It’s an ache that cuts down past her bones, into her marrow, a burn that sets her on fire while stealing all her strength away. 

It’s cold.

A cold so strong it’s warm.  


* * *

Chat doesn’t notice her at first.

He’s a harsh contrast to her. Full of desperate nervous energy, pacing back and forth between the beams, he alternates between tugging on his black leather cat ears and wringing his hands. She can hear his purr loud and clear over the wind. And it makes her heart ache for him. Because cats purr when they’re happy yes...but they also purr to calm themselves down. To comfort and soothe their nerves. He’s a spring coiled and ready. 

Her heart is beating wildly inside her chest. Pounding and clawing its way up her throat. She wants to calm down. She needs to calm down...it’s just hard to-

“My lady.”

Marinette turns right into Chats chest. Feeling his arms come down around her as he sweeps her up off her feet. His touch is different from Alya’s. It’s less invasive. Less foreign. An inside force rather than a true outside one. An extension of herself. To whatever extent the Miraculous has blurred the lines between her and him.

She buries her face into his collar and she exhales. She squeezes her eyes shut, some of the tension she’s been holding loosens. She’s more aware, more present as Chat nuzzles his head against her hair rubbing the side of his face back and forth, back and forth over and over again.

It’s a soothing sensation. Not just for him but for her as well. If asked Marinette would put money on Plagg’s influence. Cats liked to mark what’s theirs after all, and Chat has done this enough times for the action to be familiar. 

This she thinks as the input is dialed a notch back. Eleven instead of the twelve it had crept up to somewhere between the school and the tower, is what Tikki meant. The specifics are lost somewhere in the magic that the kwami hoard and dispense like treats when a puppy is especially clever. It’s like the world has taken a step back. They’ve created their own little bubble, protected by a thin sheet of plastic.

Everything is still there.

Nothing has changed.

It still hurts.

It’s just easier to ignore.

Marinette can breathe. She can breathe and she can focus. She’s in control again. Chat is too, his eyes are just the faintest bit less haunted and the color is creeping back into his skin. Marinette wonders if she looks noticeably different. Probably. She knows she was a mess earlier, just how much of one is up for debate.

Based on Chat’s panicked look over the phone though, she’ll bet it was a bad one. 

“Do you know what’s happening.” She hopes he’s heard something. Anything that can help them make sense of what’s going on today.

“No, no, I don’t.” She feels him shake his head. “The earth’s been crying. It’s been crying and screaming and it’s getting _louder_.” 

“The air is breathless,” Marinette says.

“It’s been silent.” She feels his grip tighten as his claws bite into her skin. Tiny little pinpricks.

“Chat I’m scared.” Her voice is choked and she’s sagging against him. The fatigue is getting worse. “Tikki didn’t say anything.”

“Neither did Plagg.” Chat lets out a chuckle that may as well have been a sob. “He never really does.”

“It's magical.” Marinette drags her eyes up to look him in the face. “There’s no way this can be natural, nature doesn’t do this.”

Chat takes a moment to look into her face, searching. “Do you think it’s Hawkmoth?”

“No. No, the Miraculous don’t do this either. They aren’t...they aren’t so physical.”

“Then what-”

She drops to the ground, dead weight falling lifelessly. 

Chat falls to his knees not a moment later hunched forward clutching his ears.

It hurts.

It hurts _SO BADLY_.

It’s blinding.

It’s ...it’s… the scream that rips through her throat is nothing short of visceral. 

It feels as if everything within her has shattered. The pain is otherworldly, all-encompassing, existing here and there and everywhere all at once. In every moment of will and will be. Her muscles are broken, her bones ground to dust and her blood boiled over. Her skin is peeled back, and she’s a raw nerve in every way imaginable.

It’s like someone has ripped Marinette open. Left her bleeding on the ground that’s hemorrhaging. Taken out her lungs and collapsed her airways just for good measure. It’s as if someone has torn through the very fabric of time and space. Like they’ve reached into creation and _pulled_.

“Ladybug!” Chats screaming, he’s clawing at her shoulders shaking her desperately and calling her name and Marinette thinks she’s still screaming too.

The tension that’s been building.

The elastic that’s been pulled white.

The shoe that’s been teetering.

They have all come together in a single instant.

And they have _snapped_.

**Author's Note:**

> AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> So tell me, what did you think? Fair warning know most of this fic will work of headcanons I have about how the Miraculouses affect their wearer.
> 
> Here Marinette is intuned with Nature, creation as it exists in it's rawest form on the physical plane. Her sense of touch is heightened up to the ninth degree. Hence why her nervous system is going crazy. It's receiving input from a hundred sources all at once.  
> Chat will be explored more next chapter.
> 
> If you want to chat feel free to leave a comment your feedback adds 10+ years onto my life. Or shoot me an ask on my tumblr. It's eat0crow too.


End file.
